


Tape 3: Side A - R. Nitram

by Narcis_The_Monk



Series: Confession Tapes [5]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alcohol, Cheating, Drug Use, F/F, F/M, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Underage Drinking, Underage Drug Use, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-03-08 09:24:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13455312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Narcis_The_Monk/pseuds/Narcis_The_Monk
Summary: Rufioh Nitram tells his life story with twelve songs.One of the Dancestor sets. I was particularly inspired by this playlist haha





	1. Champion

“I got rage every day, on the inside.  
The only thing I do is sit around and kill time.  
I'm trying to blow out the pilot light, I'm trying to blow out the light.  
I'm just young enough to still believe, still believe;  
But young enough not to know what to believe in.  
Young enough not to know what to believe.  
If I can live through this,  
I can do anything…”

Rufioh Nitram was five years years old and in the worse pain he could ever imagine. He had been playing with some of the neighbor kids, climbing trees and doing those things that kids do when they were allowed free reign in groups. He had challenged Porrim to a race up the tree in his backyard, and they had gotten a good ways up. Well, he thought it was at least. Later on, as an adult, he would have realized he was maybe ten feet off the ground.

But right as they both reached the same place, he’d called her ugly. He wasn’t sure why he had. Maybe he had thought she would give up, maybe cry to his mother that he was being mean and he would win because she’d stopped climbing. He had not expected the look of pure anger and for her to shove him back. He lost his balance and plummeted down to the ground, landing on his left arm in a very awkward way. 

He’d heard the snap that resonated through his bones before he felt the searing burn that began coursing up his arm in angry pulses of throbbing pain. He rolled off his arm, and that movement was what caused him to scream loudly. He could feel hot tears rolling down his cheeks and he could see his mother hurrying out to him, phone in hand, through his blurry eyes. She was asking what happened, and he turned when he heard Porrim’s voice.

“We were climbing the tree and he fell.” She answered as she walked over hesitantly. He glared at her through the tears.

“Did not! You pushed me!” He gasped out, fighting to think past the pain in the arm he was cradling protectively against his chest.

“Porrim!” His mother turned to her, her face the perfect image of a stern mother.

“He called me ugly!” She defended herself, and his mother sighed a bit as she shook her head.

“Rufioh, you shouldn’t have called her ugly. But Porrim, was this really the best way to react?” She asked, and the young girl hung her head in shame the way only a five year old can. His mother was already dialing something on the phone before she received an answer.

“No Mrs. Nitram…I’m sorry.” Porrim said now, rubbing at her arms. He might have felt sorry that she got in trouble if his arm wasn’t still pulsing with a pain that almost overrode his entire system. He considered her being in trouble to be as close to fair as he could get unless he ever got a chance to push her out of a tree. 

His mother sent everyone over to Mrs. Maryam’s, and she took him to a hospital. He had enough knowledge of his surrounding to recognize his father was there and that everything around him smelled too clean. Like someone had washed all the scents out of the entire building and it made him feel uncomfortable to be there. 

He’d had to wait, and he’d settled himself firmly between his parents as he concentrated on anything besides his arm. He’d gotten used to the pain, almost accepting it as part of him before he was carried by his father back into the white halls through the wide swinging doors. He wouldn’t let anyone else carry him into where that strange smell seemed to be radiating from.

Rufioh didn’t understand a lot that was happening around him. He had to sit still for a machine he was told took pictures of his bones. They said something about it being a ‘clean break’ and they would have to ‘set it’. Whatever that meant. He’d been upset about the shot they’d brought closer, but his father held him and told him it would make his arm feel better. He did his best to ignore it, but he didn’t register the shot at all with that same numbing pain in his arm.

Then the rest was a bit of a haze. The one thing he absolutely remembered was them taking his arm and sudden pain, pushing through that haze and fogginess. Everything was numbed, but it still seemed to throb vaguely. The next thing he remembered was waking up in a bed, and something hard wrapped around his arm. His mother told him it was a cast later. She told him he’d been awake for it, even picked out the red color of the offending object, but he couldn’t remember it.

He did have one significant thought that he could remember thinking before he’d passed out. That if he could make it through this, he could do anything.


	2. All Time Low

“I, I, I, I've been trying to fix my pride,  
But that shit's broken, that shit's broken.  
Lie, lie, lie, lie, l-lie, I try to hide,  
But now you know it,  
That I'm at an all time low.”

The Rufioh Nitram that thought he could do anything had disappeared slowly as time passed on. A few years later, his closest friend was still Aranea. And she was more like his sister, she always had been. It seemed to be viewed as something more by teachers and other students but they had always laughed it off together.

They’d spent a lot of time together as kids; her mother took them to school in the mornings all through elementary school, and his father would pick them up when they got out for the day. It continued into middle school, and after school they usually spent time either in her backyard playing or up in her bedroom studying.. 

He was still fairly reclusive, keeping to himself and sticking to Aranea’s side as a sort of prevention to her being bullied. It worked for the most part, and it helped that she blent into the background. She didn’t really have an interest in other people for the most part, choosing to read and absorb as much information as she could in a day. He adored that about his sister.

She’d also tutored him in math more often than he’d really care to ever admit, so he’d helped her out when they’d reached middle school when it came to talking to people to repay her kindness. That was when she had begun to express a vague interest in making friends and she tagged along to parties and other such things he was asked to attend.

That he was invited to parties was a marvel to him at times. He couldn’t really understand why others thought he was as cool as they told him he was. Maybe it’s because he had a hard time saying no and disappointing people. His father had always told him Nitrams help those in need; it’s why he stuck to Aranea, it’s why he followed the cool kids around. He used it to justify a lot of things he did after a while.

It helped him a lot, and he climbed social ranks quickly. He brought his sister along with him to the top, and no one bothered either of them in the halls now. Though he had to do a few, admittedly shady, things that left him feeling very uncomfortable in his skin at times. 

Mostly bullying; shoving that left him shaking, trash talking that left a layer of film in his mouth he couldn’t wash out. He hated the way it left him feeling, but he felt that pressure to conform and fit in consuming him all the while he did it and he couldn’t stop out of some twisted desperation to not let other people down.

Instead of talking about it, he chose to bottle it up and push it back into the darkest parts of his mind where he didn’t tread often. He liked to pretend it didn’t happen, preferring to just keep going like everything was okay and just smile through it. Aranea told him it wasn’t healthy one time. She said she’d read in a psychology book it was better to talk and express his own concerns but he’d just shaken his head. _’I’m fine, sis. Everything’s cool, doll, I promise.’_ He’d said the words confidently and she frowned at him. 

She knew, but she didn’t know how to push it yet. She’d learn eventually, and her words coupled with a few others would make him clean up his act. But for now, he was stubborn and too deep into denial to turn back now. 

His self-confidence took a hard plunge, as did a lot of his pride. But he found he’d become a very good actor and he hid everything fairly well, or so he thought at least. He’d started slipping away from his group of friends if they started acting aggressive to ‘an outsider’. Though he knew he couldn’t get away with it forever. They would eventually catch him, and they would corner him and pick on him the way they did everyone else. He knew they would use his cowardice as an excuse for him, too. 

He’d thought long and hard, eventually coming up with a fairly clever ruse. He’d managed to slip a cigarette from his father’s pack and snuck it into school with a lighter and when he’d eventually been caught by the leader of his group during his attempt to sneak off he’d used it as a very convincing excuse.

He’d then, of course, had to be accompanied by the group to prove he hadn’t been lying. He prayed some kind of knowledge had stuck in his brain from watching his father light a cigarette many of time, and he wasn’t as graceful at it as the Nitram elder. When Rufioh first tried, he’d coughed so hard for so long it had brought tears to his eyes. But when he caught his breath again, the second drag was smoother and he discovered he liked the tingling feeling in his head as he pulled the smoke down into his lungs. He held it, closing his eyes as he exhaled a cloud of smoke slowly. He felt a wave of peace wash over him and he knew in an instant he would continue the habit into his adult life.

After that, he’d gotten pretty good at sneaking cigarettes and even buying some off the even shadier students in school. He liked the permanent excuse to not have to actively participate in as many shake downs. He’d just make sure they caught he skipping a class, or slipping away around a corner with part of a cigarette in his mouth. He got even better at hiding it from his parents. He felt a shameful pride in that.

Though with his mother being a nurse and his father being a park ranger, they weren’t around often enough to actually have a chance to catch him. And when his father wasn’t at work or at home, he was over at Aunt Minnie’s. She liked to drink a little too much, and his father always told him as her best friend he’d promised to always take care of her. 

He remembered those words so clearly, because it had made Rufioh wish he had a best friend. He didn’t think Aranea counted, since she didn’t really talk to him but at him and he thought of her as family. He didn’t have anyone to take care of or anyone to take care of him, for that matter. He thought on more than one occasion that he really did need someone to help him pick up all the broken pieces of his self-esteem and help reassemble it, but he didn’t have anyone he could think of that he could trust that much.

The realization had made him feel lonelier than he ever felt, and he learned it was a hollow feeling. Like there was a big empty space in his chest that was just void of life or feelings of any kind. It was followed by a heartbreaking ache in his gut, before he felt like he slipped out his body and lost control of himself. He was consumed whole by apathy now, overtaken with that feeling of nothingness.

It had lasted a few hours the first time it happened, and when he finally felt like he was back in control of himself he took a shower before he went to go see Aranea. She told him he had disassociated, and he needed to find some way to vent or cool down. She had offered her own ear for the first option, but he’d just smiled and nodded before he left to go back to his empty house. He went out to his backyard and sat under the tree he’d fallen out of as a kid.

He smoked as he stared up at the branches above him, wondering where that confident kid had gone and wishing he’d come back. It helped a little to know he hadn’t always been this broken. Maybe he would eventually feel whole again, but he didn’t right now.

And that was okay. He was fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "All Time Low" by Jon Bellion


	3. Don't Threaten Me With A Good Time

“Champagne, cocaine, gasoline;  
And most things in between.  
I roam the city in a shopping cart,  
A pack of camels and a smoke alarm.  
This night is heating up!  
Raise hell and turn it up!  
Saying, "If you go on you might pass out in a drain pipe."  
Oh yeah, don't threaten me with a good time…”

Over the summer, between seventh and eighth grade, puberty hit him again hard. He had a growth spurt, sprouting up a few more inches over the few months they were out of school. And briefly, he was free from the stress of the pressure he always felt. His voice deepened a bit more, still cracking occasionally. He thinned out a bit as well, and he looked even more like his father now. And like his father, he was immediately labeled as ‘handsome’ when he returned to school, and just like that there was a new weight on his shoulders.

It wasn’t long before cigarettes weren’t enough to help clear Rufioh’s mind. One thing was for sure, he didn’t want to do any hard drugs. His father had spent some time as a paramedic in his life and had told him many a story to make him want to stray as far away from most things as it was. He’d say he felt the same about alcohol, but he knew it was by far the easiest thing to get his hands on.

So he started simple, drinking here and there at parties. He liked the boost of confidence, but the alcohol made him feel hot and dizzy. And he definitely didn’t like the after effects that came the next day. But he slowly adjusted to it, accepting any and all drinks by his sixth party that year. But that too became ‘not enough’ to numb the emptiness. So the search started again, and he thought of something he didn’t mind as much.

He had been invited to smoke a joint many times at parties, but the first time he’d said yes had almost shocked everyone around him into total silence. He was the ‘boy scout’, he never touched drugs. Alcohol, sure, but Rufioh Nitram never touched “drugs.” He’d been teased for it before, heard all the dumb jokes meant to peer pressure. He’d joined the circle and found that this was what he preferred to the alcohol. It helped him relax, to let go of things that wormed their way into his bones.

It felt like it was almost overnight that Rufioh Nitram became the life of every single party there was. Soon after, he became the must-have invite to any social gathering. And that became tiring, having to attend every single party just to smoke. So he started catching rumors of where he might possibly find his own marijuana. And everything he heard seemed to come back to one person being the easiest source; Damara Megido.

He felt sick when he first approached her. He still remembered her in the gym. She hadn’t seemed particularly upset by any of it, but he could remember Porrim. Or rather, her lecturing him. It made him frown a little as he approached where she was settled against the back wall of the art building, her own cigarette held between her fingers as she stared up at the blue sky with a pair of headphones on.

He took her in as he approached. She was wearing another short skirt, some fishnets and a pair of combat boots. It was paired with a band shirt and a large hoodie that seemed to drape off her. He’d walked all the way to her before he snapped out of the daze and he took to standing awkwardly in front of her before he fished through his own pockets for the cigarette he’d brought and lit it. He stood there quietly thinking about how to approach the subject until she seemed to notice him. 

She frowned a bit, that same hard expression she wore when she talked to almost anyone but her friends. She pulled her headphone off finally, before pulling her cigarette up to rest it between her lips. 

“What you want?” Damara asked harshly, the bare minimum. He knew she spoke two languages, but he was always on the fence when she spoke.

“I, uh...heard a rumor I could…” He started, stammering already before he put his attention back onto the cigarette he held between his own lips and the white wispy smoke that twirled up from the end of it. “There’s a rumor you sell weed.” 

She watched him carefully for a hard second, looking around them and seeing the same emptiness he did. She finally changed er expression, though he wasn’t sure if the dangerous smirk she wore now was much better.

“Not a rumor. Fact. Don’t sell here though.” She answered now, patting the ground beside her. He hesitantly took the offered spot, leaning back against the wall. “Twenty dollars. And you come over.” 

“Come over where, now?” He asked and his confusion was met with laughter.

“My house. You are not stupid.” She answered now, and his eyes widened a bit. He worried briefly about his reputation before he proposed a counter solution.

“How about you go to that big party tonight with me? That sound like a better idea, doll? I’ll bring the money, we can go our separate ways afterwards…” He offered and she grinned wider, shaking her head a bit.

“Fine. Cool boy mustn’t be caught sneaking away to a whore’s house, right?” She responded, and he turned to look at her now.

“No, that’s not-- you’re not a--” He starting sputtering, trying to cover up the exact reason she had guessed spot on. She shook her head, laughing.

“I am not ashamed of my sexuality. I care not what you think.” Damara responded, waving her hand in the air before she plucked the cigarette from her lips with grace. “You are cute for thinking I do. You’re not as terrible as you pretend to be.”

“No, I guess not…” He answered with an embarrassed mumble, dropping his gaze away for a bit as he got his blushing under control. He finally turned back to her, and she was watching him with a slight tilt to her head. 

“I will meet you tonight. Have the money.” She answered, reaching over to pat his knee before she stood up again. She stretched and flicked the cigarette away after one last drag. She turned to head back as the bell rang, indicating the end of lunch. He disposed of his own cigarette and chose a different route to his class from the one she had taken.

He was anxious the rest of the day, yet he was excited to acquire his own weed. Unless she’d been lying, and she didn’t show up. Though he didn’t think she had, she seemed...nicer by the end of their talk. Maybe he’d broken past some wall he didn’t know existed, some kind of barrier she kept up. That thought almost made him break into a grin when it came to him. Maybe they could even be friends. A real friend would be nice.

When it came time to go to the party, he didn’t do anything elaborate. He didn’t even change. He headed out, catching a ride from some of the popular kids that wanted him around. He waited outside for a little bit, before deciding to go inside to look.

But once inside, he decided it had clearly been the right choice. He found Damara immediately, dancing on a table with a few people she had clearly dragged up there with her. He could see a drink in one hand and a joint in the other, and he felt a smile spread across his lips. He could remember a story from his father about how he’d met Aunt Minnie. There was spark of fate, and he moved through the room with the confidence he’d been stoking all day.

When he got close enough, he hopped up on the table beside her. She turned to grin at him, saying something in japanese and he grinned back. He wasn’t sure what she said, but the tone didn’t seem as deadpan as she normally left it. She moved over, holding the joint up to his lips. He leaned in and snagged it from her, pulling back a bit to inhale off of it.

“Didn’t think you’d dare to be seen with me.” Damara challenged him quietly and he laughed.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, doll.” He answered, and she gave a laugh. They danced, everyone cheering them on. He didn’t get down until she pulled him down by his hand. Then they snuck off to a random room by themselves. He’d already gotten his hands on a few drinks and downed them, the little bit of weed in his system mellowing him out so he wasn’t anxious about his every move. 

Being seen with her wasn’t as bad as he thought, everyone seeming to accept her immediately when she stood at his side. He knew she had noticed it too, but she seemed to only be interested in him. They fell onto the bed in the room, laughing. Then she moved quickly and straddled him, her hands in her shirt. He had a moment of brief confusion before she pulled out a bag of weed and laughed loudly down at him.

“Should see your face right now.” She teased as she waved the baggie she held in her fingers.

“Kinda hard without a mirror, huh? Least I know I’m handsome.” He responded quickly, the alcohol making him bolder with his words.

“So cocky. It will be your downfall.” She answered, rolling off him to open the bag and begin breaking some down to roll into a joint. 

“Maybe. But at least no one will see me bleeding.” He answered, and he immediately shut up. Damara looked up from the task she had at hand and watched him in hushed dance beat pounding from the other room. He didn’t add on or continue, and eventually she looked back down to finish up. She handed him the joint, and once he’d placed it between his lips she was looming close once again. She lifted a lighter up, and he let her light it as they stayed quiet. She was the one that broke the silence.

“You can talk to me. No one sees me unless I stand next to you. Or unless they’re disgusting and come crawling to me for attention rumors say I give.” She told him quietly, and he looked to her now. And this time, he really looked at her. Through the haze of smoke in the room, and the small blur around the edges of his vision from the alcohol, he could see it. A genuine offer of friendship. He gave her a smile now, his own real self shining through.

“I’d like that.” He answered, and Damara gave him a smile in return.

“Plus, I can get you weed.” She joked, reaching over and taking the joint from him now.

“That is a definite plus.” Rufioh laughed, shaking his head.

They sat in that room for most of the night, smoking and talking. At some point, they wandered out to dance and drink like anyone else at this silly little party he didn’t really care about. She never left his side, and he didn’t feel alone as long as she was there.

And when she kissed him at the end of the night, he ignored the squirming feeling in his gut that told him he lost that chance for the friend he needed. He ignored it, because he was high and drunk and for once not feeling alone. He returned the kiss, ready to ignore everything if he could just hold onto that feeling.

But just like every other time, it would never last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Don't Threaten Me With A Good Time" by Panic! At The Disco


	4. HOLD ME TIGHT OR DON'T

“I got too high again,  
When I realized I can't not be with you,  
Or be just your friend.  
I love you to death but I just can't,  
I just can't pretend,  
We were lovers first;  
Confidants but never friends,  
Were we ever friends?”

Rufioh entered his freshman year of highschool with his reputation as the party boy ready for anything stronger than ever. With Damara as his girlfriend it almost solidified the front Rufioh had been constructing carefully for so long. It was more like foggy glass instead of thick smoke now, and for that he was grateful. 

Speaking of his girlfriend, he thought to her and almost smiled a bit. She was the closest thing he had to a friend beyond his sister, and he was terrified of that slipping away from him once more. He didn’t want to be alone, so he played the game she had long since started. Why did she have to kiss him? Why did this have to be confusing all the time? The constant fear of his irrational worry sent him spiraling farther down into himself.

But no matter how deep he feel down that hole, and no matter her reasons behind why she’d pushed this alliance into a relationship, Damara never failed to pull him back out. If she looked over and saw him starting to tip over, she grabbed him by his hands and tugged him out to dance, to smoke, to drink. Whichever was closer, whichever she felt like; he had no objections to any of it, because as long as his head was in the clouds he couldn’t think and he couldn’t sink lower into himself.

He did let down his walls around her, considering her a person he should be able to do that with. In return, she let down hers-- but only when they were alone. He knew she was confident in herself, and unlike him, hers was real and the very foundation she was built around. He asked her once how she could be so strong, and she told him her mother had raised her as such. She said her mother always told her “You are strong. Powerful; it’s in your blood, expect nothing less.” He’d met the elder Megido woman once, and Damara had told him she’d given her approval. Though she could have been lying to him, as the exchange had all been done in hushed tones in a language he didn’t understand.

He was envious of Damara’s natural confidence, but he was thankful for it as well. She stood strong for both of them, and she often got them out of parties he’d had once been forced to go to because he was always afraid to say no to anyone for fear of letting someone down. And he wanted to do everything in his power to keep his popularity up so he never had to fall back into the groups that liked to bully and teased. He was sure if he felt that disgusting again, it might be what tainted him forever.

But as much as they were confidants for the other, he didn’t know if they were really friends. He never knew where the lines were drawn in the sand, just barely comprehensible for the younger Nitram. So he sat out to make friends again. Damara didn’t approve of a lot of the school’s population because most of them had been rude to her at some point, and she had always one to hold a grudge. But she did introduce him to someone she didn’t mind as much.

His name was Horuss Zahaak, and he was surprisingly on the football team. It was surprising because he was a shy boy that kept to himself and was almost painfully polite. He wasn’t much shorter than Rufioh was, but he was a bit broader. He had tanned skin, long straight black hair he kept pulled back or braided, the sweetest smile, and the most breathtaking blue eyes Rufioh had ever seen. Apparently Damara had a class with him, which he couldn’t remember, but him and Horuss hit it off pretty quickly.

They would meet before school and talk in the mornings in the cafeteria before classes started. Rufioh had always been an early riser, something he didn’t have in common with Damara. But Horuss shared the same trait, and they would settle in table in one of the corners and talk quietly amongst themselves. It became routine after a while, and he enjoyed it. He liked talking to someone who didn’t expect something from him.

Through their morning routine, Rufioh learned a lot about his new best friend. Horuss liked machinery and robotics, and he was pretty good in his wood shop class. He liked working with his hands and building things, and he wanted to go to school for something that required him to invent and build. He hadn’t settled on a category yet. He also really liked horses, mentioning his family had owned them for years; they owned a stable in the country where his mother taught kids to ride. 

When he found out they both liked anime and manga, a guilty pleasure he’d been keeping to himself for quite a while, he traded numbers with Horuss. It wasn’t long before he was inviting the other over to hang out with him and Damara, and soon it became them spending time together whether Damara was there or not. He started to appreciate the relationships he had with both Damara and Horuss, both his closest friends, and he latched onto them tightly and greedily.

He treasured the friendship he had with Horuss the most, a relationship that began as and thrived off friendship. It’s what he had wanted when he approached Damara the first time, and he felt a little bit guilty to think he appreciated his relationship with her a bit more now that he had a friendship to compare it to, so he could see the differences between the two.

Then Horuss started to confuse him. He still came over regardless of if Damara was over or not, but he seemed happier when she wasn’t with them. He started sitting a little closer, leaning a little more in. Rufioh didn’t point it out, didn’t bring it up. But the first time Horuss reached out and touched his arm, feather light and kind, Rufioh started to catch on. Horuss liked him. He was almost sure of it. And that started a storm of feelings to spinning in him, and he was off on a new whirlwind of confusion.

He wasn’t confused about Horuss; his business was his own, but he did know the other was gay. He’d told Rufioh almost immediately, and he just stored it away with the info that Horuss liked machines and only played football to impress his father. What was confusing him was that he wasn’t opposed to any of it. Was he gay? No, he didn’t think it was that. He knew he was attracted to Damara. Maybe he was bi? That didn’t feel right either. 

If Rufioh was honest with himself, he knew the only reason he hadn’t tried to acknowledge Horuss’s could-be advances was because he was dating Damara, and he wasn’t going to lose her over something that might be happening. It wasn’t worth the risk of losing her for something he might very well be building up out of nothing in his head. That also made him feel guilty; if he had been sure, would he risk it then? 

He fell back down into that dark pit of self loathing and started questioning himself again. He found himself once more questioning his morals, if he was really a good person if he didn’t know if he could cheat on Damara. He distanced himself from both his friends a bit more, hiding away and smoking more. He thought about talking to Aranea, but he let it go after a while. She wouldn’t want to hear any of this, not with her family history. It got harder to pretend he was okay, to pull himself out enough so he could function.

After a while, he decided to ignore it. Everything would be better if he just ignored the hints Horuss seemed to be giving him. He would still have his friends if he just kept everything the way it was. He wished he had listened to himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "HOLD ME TIGHT OR DON'T" by Fall Out Boy


	5. Consequences

“Loving you was young, and wild, and free.  
Loving you was cool, and hot, and sweet.  
Loving you was sunshine, safe and sound;  
A steady place to let down my defenses.  
But loving you had consequences…”

 

In the summer between his sophomore and junior year of high school, he fucked everything up. He’d been doing so good at ignoring all of the advances Horuss had attempted, making sure to divide his time between him and his girlfriend fairly. He played his own little version of charades, one he’d started to finally believe.

He pretended he didn’t have growing feelings for the other boy, and never once lied to Damara about loving her. He did, he was as close to sure he could ever be. He could feel his heart stop in his chest when she looked at him sometimes, and he always had butterflies in his stomach when she was around him. He liked kissing her, and he liked holding her close.

He liked that they like to “party” in similar ways, showing their faces on the occasion while also hiding away and smoking and making out. He liked that she was confident, that she made him feel stronger when she stood at his side. He liked that when they were alone, she was sweet and funny. He liked that she was warm and kind and so understanding of the moments he spent feeling like he was outside of his body. He liked that she told him everything that happened to her in a day.

But he also knew he didn’t like how she shut down when certain people came too close. He didn’t like that she was only warm and kind to him when they were alone. He didn’t like that she always spoke with a sharp tongue to her friends, and that she kept him from really spending time with her friends when he’d always shared his with hers. She was controlling, possessive, and sometimes she could be cruel. He knew most of it was in defense, and that she was scared of letting anyone get too close to her. 

He loved her with everything he could, but their differences became stronger and more noticeable over the passing time. It became almost smothering, so hard to breathe after their increasing fights. Most were her accusing of wandering, cheating on her or not really loving her. She started to share her insecurities, but they were all directed towards him. He couldn’t find it in him to ever consider she meant to hurt him; they were kids, they didn’t know what was happening to them. Regardless of being forgiving of it all, he started pushing himself away from her, and ironically pushing himself more to Horuss. 

Horuss accepted the increased time together without hesitation. Rufioh began to talk to him the way he’d used to talk to Damara, opening up and breaking down walls. The first time Horuss reached over and took his hand, Rufioh had just held on tightly in appreciation that this was still something he was sure of. Horuss was only holding his hand because he was crying and he knew he needed a friend. If i had stopped there, everything might have been fine in the long run.

But it didn’t stop there. It moved slowly over that summer, spending more days at Horuss’ house and almost hiding away from Damara. Even if she still had good days, they didn’t make up for the stress and panic brought on by her yelling and her accusations. Not all of it anyway. Horuss held his hand whenever he needed to talk about something, and he enjoyed the comfort of their gesture so much he willingly overlooked the possible feelings Horuss had for him to selfishly keep the simple gesture. 

The hand holding progressed to long embraces and gentle circles on his lower back after a particularly bad fight they’d had. He’d started this one, arguing that she had to be ashamed of him if she planned to never introduce him to her friends. She’d screeched something in japanese, and he’d left in a huff of exasperation. The haughty anger left him once he was alone with Horuss and he broke down into tears he didn’t know he needed to cry. He felt so bad for leaving in the middle of the fight, not trying to work it out, that when he felt Horuss pull him into a hug that seemed a little too snug he let it go. Instead he’d just wrapped his arms around him and cried into his shoulder. 

After that, whenever he fled to Horuss to talk, they ended up holding each other. He started to realize part of the reason he kept coming back to the other boy was because the comfort he’d used to receive from Damara had started to fade away. They weren’t going to last, and his fears were coming true. He was going to lose her. He let himself bend under his own weakness, looking the other way at gentle touches and comfort.

Soon after he realized he was going to inevitably lose Damara, he started fretting the same thing was going to happen to Horuss. Maybe that was why he gave into the urge finally. He could still remember that night, the one he’d regret for years. Hidden away in Horuss’ room, as far away from reality as he could get them. They’d been lying next to each other on his bed, laughing about an anime they both knew. 

And when he looked down at the other boy, his hair loose and spread out around him on the rust colored blanket and that same sweet smile across his lips...he did what Damara had done to him. He leaned down and kissed him gently. Horuss froze briefly before he returned the gesture, and Rufioh felt that rush of relief at knowing he was right. He had an idea where they stood now, and he gave in to that urge now.

The kiss was slow and lingering, and he felt his breath catch in his throat. He hadn’t realized how long he’d wanted to do that, and he found himself deepening the kiss. He felt Horuss slide his hands into his hair and he pressed in against him in return as each opened their mouths for the other to explore. It wasn’t until he felt Horuss pull at his shirt that he realized what he was doing. He broke the kiss, turning his face to start whispering quiet apologies.

“I’m sorry...I’m sorry, I can’t.” He jerked himself away quickly, as soon as he was released because he really didn’t want to hurt Horuss’ feelings. He didn’t want to hurt Damara, but he already had. He had given in to his feelings, and he was being slowly swallowed by guilt the more he realized he liked it; he could have kept going. Then he felt a hand on his arm again, feather light and so gentle and he stopped to look up at a flushed Horuss.

“Rufioh...it’s okay. It was...it was just a kiss. You weren’t think clearly, it didn’t mean a thing.” Horuss assured him, his voice quiet. He was willing to let it go, to pretend it didn’t happen either. He wasn’t exactly out to very many either. Rufioh shook his head slowly though.

“It did though, doll. It meant something, but I don’t know what.” He answered, just as quiet. He wasn’t going to lie to Horuss. He didn’t want to leave him in confusion; he knew how terrible it felt to be lost in your feelings and your thoughts, and he couldn’t do that to someone he cared about.

“I-it...it meant something?” Horuss asked, almost in disbelief.

“Yeah. I like you, Horuss. I like you a lot, but I like Damz too. I know shit’s rough, but I can’t let her go. I’m...scared, I guess. She was one of my closest friends...or I thought she was. Maybe we were never friends. I don’t actually know. I don’t know a lot of things, between you and me.” Rufioh answered, forcing words out in an attempt at an explanation. He didn’t know why this was so hard, he didn’t understand why it was so hard for him to tell what he felt for others.

“I...I see. I understand. Damara is...one of a kind. She’s sweet and sour, and I can see why you hold on so tight. I can also see why she keeps such a tight grip on you. You’re wonderful, simply incredible. I hope you see it too someday.” Horuss responded,still not moving his hand away from Rufioh’s arm.

“Maybe. I see it when you look at me.” Rufioh answered, lifting his hand to lace his fingers with the gentle on’s on his arm. Horuss blushed and looked away, and Rufioh worried he’d said the wrong thing. He probably had.

“You’re the best part of my day, and my best friend. You...mean a lot to me, and I don’t want to lose you from my life.” Horuss answered and Rufioh looked down at their hands as Horuss slid his hand in a bit snugger. “Whatever you want to do about this, I am more than willing to go along with. If you wish to continue or stop…”

“I don’t know. I’m being honest with that, doll. I really don’t know...I don’t wanna keep going behind Damz, that ain’t right. But I don’t...really want to stop either. I don’t know what the right answer is.” Rufioh said slowly, thinking about how best to explain everything.

“Your answer is the right answer, period.” Horuss spoke with his quiet confidence, the voice he used when he was trying to make Rufioh smile. He looked up to finally meet his eyes as he kept speaking. “This was honestly a doomed situation from the start. I didn’t mean to feel anything, I just wanted a friend.”

“Me too, doll. Me too. Feelings are rough.” Rufioh responded, and they laughed quietly together at the bleak start of whatever this was.

“Let’s...figure it out together then, shall we? The journey to self discovery is always easier when you have company to travel with.” Horuss offered, and Rufioh smiled now. He felt a little better. He was still lost, but at least he had someone who was willing to be lost with him.

They settled back down on the bed together, cuddling up and watching TV idly. They didn’t kiss again, but he knew he had started something. It was fueled by a selfish desire to snare him into some kind of web so he wouldn’t leave him behind like Damara was going to.

His relationship with Horuss began in deceit and guilt. It was tainted from the start, and maybe he should have seen everything coming. Maybe it was karma. Whatever it was, it lasted long into his junior year before it blew up in his face.

He didn’t try to dodge the shrapnel; he deserved every lingering stinging ache.

“...loving you was dumb, dark and cheap.  
Loving you will still takes shots at me.  
Loving you was sunshine, but then it poured;  
And I lost so much more than my senses.  
'Cause loving you had consequences.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Consequences" by Camila Cabello


	6. Let Me Go

“You made plans and I, I made problems.  
We were sleeping back to back,  
We know this thing wasn't built to last.  
Good on paper, picture perfect;  
Chased the high too far, too fast...  
Picket white fence, but we paint it black.  
Ooh, and I wished you would hurt me harder than I hurt you.  
Ooh, and I wish you wouldn't wait for me but you always do.”

Just like he’d predicted, his relationship with Damara didn’t last. He had gotten so tired of the fighting, so exhausted from walking on eggshells all the time. He knew something was happening in her home life, something involving her sister. But he had no idea what, because she refused to talk about it. Instead, she kept it locked up until it poisoned her and she kept lashing out at him because she was in pain. He didn’t want to hurt her further, so he kept his own discretions to himself longer. He could feel the unspoken secrets eating away at him.

And almost overnight, she was back to her sweet self; almost sugary and overwhelming. He shamefully appreciated the change of pace. She told him everything worked out, but they still never talked about what happened. Instead, she tried to make up for the way she had been behaving. He knew it shouldn’t matter, he shouldn’t have to accept her apology so easily because it hadn’t been fair that she’d been lashing out at him they way she had. But no, he accepted it quickly and happily. That greedy little green monster in him clung onto her tighter, not wanting to let her go.

But his affair with Horuss was still in its first stages of blooming infatuation. They’d kissed a few more times, and they held hands when they were alone now. With each new exchange, he felt dirtier and more disgusted with himself. But he still didn’t stop. Maybe he was caught in a new loop of not wanting to disappoint anyone. When Horuss told him he loved him, Rufioh had stammered over words before he’d quietly returned them. He did care, but he didn’t know if he loved him or if he loved whatever metaphor he stood for in his own anxieties creation. But he hadn’t wanted to embarrass the other or leave him hanging on something that big. With four words, he committed himself to Horuss.

Damara meanwhile seemed to notice he was quieter and more withdrawn than usual, and she’d finally noticed he was spending far less time with her. She started bringing him more weed and cigarettes, prying her way into what was supposed to be his alone time. He felt that guilt sludging through his veins like thick, viscous ink with each new gesture. He started avoiding Horuss, trying his best to keep himself in control. He didn’t want to ruin another friendship more than he was sure he already had. He still did.

When he’d finally told her the truth, he was drunk and far too sad one night at a party. As the rushed words of shame left him, she didn’t react. She didn’t shout, didn’t punch him. Just looked him the eye, just as drunk as he was before giving him a sad smile. 

“Guess I’m a good match maker.” Damara stated simply, shaking her head. “Glad you found your happy ending.”

And that was how they broke up. In the solemn dawn of the day after a raging party, but still a little faded around the edges in that strange haze of alcohol. She sat with him, and smoked a cigarette before she got up to leave. Perhaps it was the fact that she didn’t react at all the way he thought she would, but he felt like there was never closure. He told her, and she turned to ice. She took the words from his throat when she shook her head and muttered a phrase in japanese that he understood.

‘Such a shame.’

Words that echoed in his mind for months. She didn’t avoid him, she was much too cocky for that. She still sold him weed, but she made him wait more and she treated him the way she used to. Minimal conversation, no eye contact unless she wanted to make a point. It made his heart twist with shame and guilt, and he felt like he was made of lead. Such a shame.

But some days he tried to look at things in a more positive light. He didn’t have to hide Horuss anymore. And the other was thrilled with the revelation, a light and sunny comparison to Rufioh’s own discreet gloom. They didn’t announce anything right away, because Horuss had stated he wanted some sort of grand reveal. The confused Nitram didn’t understand why he wanted to celebrate their relationship that sprouted in shadows and was watered by lies. Something that was progressing far too rapidly for his own comfort, but like usual he bit his lip and smiled as he kept playing the fool.

When they revealed their relationship, everyone was sickeningly accepting of it. Everyone seemed to overlook that he had cheated on someone he cared about for reasons he still couldn’t quite grasp. He realized after a while that it was because he cheated with Horuss, and everything wrong had been dropped and ignored because he had cheated with another guy. They’d summed it up to him finding himself, that he must have been gay and didn’t know before. He fell into that lie as well, and in turn began partying harder to hide the fact that he hated that all consuming need inside of himself to fit in and not argue. But he wasn’t gay, he knew that. And going along with the new persona was just as much of a struggle as everything else was.

He realized it wasn’t going to last in the slightest when he started to fantasize about Horuss meeting someone new, someone less fucked up, and running off to be with them. People would talk to them at parties, and men would flirt with Horuss. Most of them were drunk, probably not as sure of themselves as Horuss was. But the other never strayed from his side, never once. He’d hold his hand, or onto his arm. He’d trail along beside Rufioh as he fell down the rabbit hole into his own issues and demons that he tried to smoke out with drugs and drown with alcohol, never taking anything Rufioh did and always taking care of him afterwards.

He had finally moved beyond weed and alcohol, accepting random unnamed pills on the occasion. He tried shrooms once; he ate a few along with Kurloz and Meulin, Horuss’ closest friend. Horuss opted to take care of everyone. The trip had been equal parts good and bad, ending after he had an anxiety attack brought on by facing manifestations of all of his insecurities. He couldn’t remember any of the details, but he could remember the aftermath.

They were laying outside in the grass, and he could feel the chill of the night breeze on his bare chest. At some point he must have ripped the shirt he’d been wearing off of himself in an attempt to breathe a little easier. He stared up the stars twinkling in the dark sky and he realized Horuss was beside him. He thought the other was holding his hand, but he wasn’t sure. He had that feeling of being just outside of his body again. He remembered what Aranea had called it; he was disassociating. It seemed to be happening more frequently.

“Why do you love me?” Rufioh asked finally, not entirely sure if Horuss would answer.

“Because you’re kind, and you’re thoughtful--” Horuss started and Rufioh felt the humorless laughter trickle from his own mouth out of his chest as he shook his head.

“I cheated on Damz, Horuss. I’m not thoughtful. I’m damaged.” He explained, patting his pockets for a pack of cigarettes. 

“Do you regret it?” Horuss asked quietly, as Rufioh found what he was looking for and lit his cigarette.

“Do I regret hurting someone I cared about? Yeah, I do. Do I regret you? Well...no.” Rufioh answered as honestly as he could. He did regret that it was Horuss. He knew this was going to end badly, that before it was over he would hurt him just like he’d hurt Damara.

“...do you miss her?” The words Horuss whispered were quiet,, and briefly Rufioh debated if he should answer. Some little self-destructive voice in him told him that yes he should.

“Only sometimes.” He answered, and he could feel the air between them tense up a bit.

“That’s okay.” Horuss responded, doing exactly what he always did. He ignored the implications of the statement made, and did his best to be encouraging.

“It’s really not. I should be happy with what we have....but sometimes nothing makes me happy. Sometimes I feel like I’m not in my own body. Sometimes, I realize I don’t deserve your loyalty, something I’m not sure I even have.” Rufioh wasn’t sure why he was talking about this. He’d never skated so close to the subject of the turmoil he constantly felt in himself.

“You won’t always. I’ll always be here for you.” The reply from Horuss was quick, cheery, and entirely too predictable.

“Yeah…thanks, doll...” Rufioh answered, offering the other a smile that didn’t feel right on his lips. He returned to his cigarette, letting himself drift back out of his body. Maybe it’d be better if he just coasted by on autopilot and kept his thoughts to himself. The thought that made him feel the guiltiest was the last one that crossed his mind before he gave in to the depression surrounding him for a moment. _’That’s what I’m afraid of, doll. That you’ll wait for me.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Let Me Go" by Hailee Steinfeld ft. Alessa, Florida Georgia Line, & watt


	7. Real Friends

“I'm just lookin' for some real friends,  
All they ever do is let me down.  
Every time I let somebody in,  
Then I find out what they're all about.  
I'm just lookin' for some real friends,  
Wonder where they're all hidin' out?  
I'm just lookin' for some real friends,  
Gotta get up out of this town…”

Rufioh Nitram could still remember the interaction he had with Porrim out on the baseball diamond. He knew what had happened. He’d been doing his best to talk to everyone she was close to, until he’d pieced everything together. Her and Kurloz had a miscarriage. So he’d followed her to talk to her, and he remembered her words every day since.

_‘You can’t just admit you’re a fuck up. You should try and fix it. You should enjoy your life and how you’re living it, apologize for your mess ups and make amends. Then we could be friends.’_

The words bounced around inside of his head for the remainder of his junior year. It took a long time, and a lot of thinking on what the words meant to him. But the idea of being friends with Porrim was appealing. She never lied about how she felt, she kept the lines in the sand clear despite the crashing tide of change. And she would only ever move them if she wanted to, and she would be clear about it first. The realization that he was back to wanting to make a real friend made him feel a little pathetic.

Instead of letting those thoughts start to fester this time, he worked a little harder at pushing them away. He told himself he deserved to have friends, that it was healthy to have someone to open up to. It was okay to feel guilty, but he shouldn’t linger. So he went to make his amends; the only way to move forward was reaching closure.

The first person was Aranea. He needed to apologize to her for being a bad friend and a bad brother. He’d ‘helped her’ with friends, then after the first time he’d disassociated he’d just...stayed away from her unless he wanted to vent or needed help with his homework. The realization of how terrible he had been it him hard. 

It wasn’t easy for him, by any means. It’d taken him days to build up the courage to go see her the first time. It’d taken a few more days after that to apologize. But she’d waved off the apology, telling him of course she forgave him. She’d never really been upset with him; they’d each had their own problems while they grew up. He started spending more time with her, really listening to her.

“Rufioh, you really do worry too much. You’ll always be my big brother, and I’ll never stay mad at you for too long. And if you need to talk, I’m always here.” Aranea had said calmly as they sat in her room on the window seat together when he’d finally apologized.

“Thanks, Rain.” He’d responded, bumping her shoulder with his own.

“Oh hush. And no one else calls me that.” She’d chided, blushing wildly.

“No one else is your brother. But if you want, I’ll stop.” He teased before he recalled the lecture Porrim had given him once. If she didn’t like it, he should stop.

“No, it’s fine. You know, I never understood why you called me that.” Aranea offered, humming in thought.

“Besides your name being A-RAIN-EA? But also because you always seemed to like the rain. I don’t know, what were we when I started calling you that--like six? I can’t remember a lot of my reasoning from that time…” He laughed lightly, unsure of himself once again.

“Now that you say it, I supposed that’s incredibly obvious. And thoughtful, for a six year old.” She chuckled a little, before she looked over to him and smiled. “You’re going to be great. And you don’t need to worry about me. I can think of someone who would find far more appreciation, as well as relief, in your apology.”

“Yeah, I know. Damz is next.” He had admitted, smiling sheepishly at her.

He wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing, struggling to swim through the rushing waters of his emotions and his own inner demons. But he stopped himself from panicking most of the times, using a common thought. What was something Porrim would tell him?

_’Any progress is good progress, so long as those stairs lead to being a good person that you’re comfortable with.’_ If he thought hard enough, he could almost imagine her voice saying them. Maybe she had and he couldn’t recall them fully; he’d confess only to himself to listening to most of the rants she’d had that he could hear. He started repeating the phrase to himself as he started down this new route to rebuilding himself.

The next person was Damara. He didn’t need a sudden realization to know he needed to apologize. And he knew he couldn’t make it better, couldn’t go back and change time. But he could admit his mistakes, apologize, and improve.

He’d found her behind the new arts building of the high school. She was just down the little hill, almost out of sight. If he hadn’t known the dip in the land was there, he probably wouldn’t have guessed. He approached her, sitting down at the edge of her bubble of space. He waited until she looked up at him. He smiled a bit when she rolled her eyes, trying to find humor in these situations now. 

“Relax, doll. I’m not here for anything. I just...needed to talk to you.” He started honest this time, as he lit a cigarette.

“Why bother?” She challenged, before she reached over and snatched his lit cigarette from him. He laughed a bit and lit a second.

“Because...things aren’t going to get better if I keep doing what I’ve been doing.” He tried to keep himself calm, still expecting her to get angry.

“Which is?” Small phrases were all she was going to give him, and she punctuated them with puffs to the stolen cigarette.

“Coast by on lies I tell myself.” That silenced her a bit, and she merely tilted her head in a sign for him to continue. “I’ve gotta say I’m sorry.”

“Too late for that--” Damara started, jumping to defense already.

“I’m not trying to get you back, Damz. Not this time. I know just saying I’m sorry isn’t going to fix the mess I made. There’s no way to travel back in time and fix it. I don’t think I’d want to. Everything...everything started wrong. You know?” Rufioh forced the words out, knowing it would be easier if he got even a little bit of what he had on his mind out even if it wasn’t all of it yet.

“No. I don’t understand.” She stated, and he looked to see her genuinely interested in what he had to say.

“I wanted...I wanted a friend. When we got together, I just wanted a real friend. Then you kissed me, and I couldn’t upset you. So I went along with it. But I did care for you, and I hated every second of what I did. I knew it was wrong, but then I couldn’t hurt Horuss…” He explained his own reasonings. “All of it was wrong. I should have talked to you. I should have talked to both of you.”

“You never do anything for yourself.” Damara stated, the matter of fact tone catching him off guard.

“What?” 

“You heard me. I don’t repeat myself. You try and do everything for everyone, but never yourself. You should have told me in the beginning. I would have just been your friend.” She said now, giving him her best gentle smile. He returned the smile before he nodded.

“I know. I know now you probably would have understood.” He said meekly, breaking eye contact now.

“Also should have told me you were gay.” This she said with a trace of a bitter tone, and he winced a bit at the label.

“I’m not, doll.” He said after a minute, and she turned to look at him. She wore confusion clear on her face.

“No?” It was a question, and he was relieved that there was no anger in it.

“No. I don’t know what I am.” He stated, and understanding washed over her once more.

“You don’t need a label to know yourself. One day, you will have one. Must not be meant to yet.” She stated before she reached over to pat his shoulder gently. He thought for maybe a second he might cry. He really did fuck over someone who was so understanding, and here she was comforting him again. He could see she was still growing as well.

“Thanks, Damz. That means a lot to me.” He choked out the words after a second, letting silence fall over them again after she nodded.

“Do you love him like you did me?” She asked finally, her tone a mysterious one.

“What?” He stammered, but this time she repeated herself without any harshness.

“Do you care for him the way you cared for me, or is it different? Is it more?” Damara asked, watching him with those red-brown eyes. He thought about it carefully before he answered.

“No. No, I care for him. But I’m not...in love with him. I’m pretty sure.” Rufioh responded with as much honesty as he could in that moment, and she gave him an understanding nod.

“Then you need to tell him. Do not do to him what you did to me.” Damara stated simply, moving to gather her things to leave. “When you tell him, you and I will be friends again.”

Then she got up and left him alone, and he waited a bit before he left so he could think. She was right. He needed to talk to Horuss, he needed to end it for both of them. He needed to end it for himself as well. But he was scared. It’d taken him so much to face Damara.

But then again, he reminded himself about how she responded. She was kind, open-minded...she didn’t yell, she didn’t pursue him or attack him. And most importantly, he didn’t die from the shame or the guilt. In fact, the more he thought about it the more he realized it was getting easier to breathe. She wasn’t mad at him, even saying she considered him to be a friend. He just had to do what he knew was right, what she knew would be best for him. She challenged him to do something for the good of him. And he was going to. But he realized he had one more apology to make before he could approach Horuss.

The next apology had to wait until after school. He told his father he’d be going out for a bit, but just down the street.

And then he walked to Porrim Maryam’s house, nervous and worried he’d be bothering her. He hadn’t finished getting his shit together, and he figured her words were as concrete as Damara’s were: “Get your shit together, then we’ll be friends.” But he owed her an apology. He’d always been a terror to her as a child, and he was a dick to everyone in middle school. He pushed himself on then, solidified in his decision once more.

He stopped at the door before knocking finally. The door opened, and he found an older woman. She looked just like Porrim, though shorter and with what looked like the start of laugh lines that’d be etched into her like stone for years to come. Mrs. Maryam hadn’t changed a lot since the last time she babysat him. He offered her a smile now before she grinned broadly at him.

“Rufioh Nitram! You’ve grown so big! And so handsome, too! Come in, come in!” Mrs. Maryam cheerfully chimed to him, opening the door and gesturing him inside. He stepped in through the door, minding his manners and remembering to thank her. “Why are you here? Did you need to talk to Porrim?” She asked, the last question holding a bit of a teasing note. She thought he had a crush on her.

“Ah, yes ma’am. Is she home?” He asked, blushing and turning away. 

“Yes, yes. She’s in her room. Hold on, I’ll go get her. Take a seat dear, would you like something to drink?” She led him into the living room, motioning to a couch.

“Oh, no ma’am. I’m fine. But thank you.” Rufioh offered a smile again, and she patted his arm before disappearing from the room. Soon after, Porrim appeared in the doorway. He stood up to greet her before he turned to look her over.

She stood before him, almost a shadow of her usual self. She wore a large black sweater that hung off one shoulder, and she’d unbraided her hair from earlier but she hadn’t done anything else with it. When he stepped closer, he thought he could see some black smudging around her eyes. Had she been crying?

“Thank you, mami. Rufioh...come with me.” She said quietly, addressing her mother first. The older woman stopped by to press a kiss to her daughter’s cheek before she said something in quick spanish before departing. Rufioh chose to pretend he was ignorant before he followed his schoolmate to what he quickly realized was her room. When he stepped through the door, she closed it behind him and quickly wiped at her eyes.

“This is...quite the surprise. Why are you here?” She asked him, turning to run her fingers through her hair a bit before she settled on clutching the ends of her sleeves.

“Well, I would have called in advance but...I don’t have your number. Am I coming at a bad time? I can just...leave? If you want.” He offered now, worried he was intruding. She seemed upset, but he wasn’t going to rush away. Even though he wanted to and he was so anxious, he wished he had someone to talk to. Maybe she did too.

“No! No, it’s fine. I just had a moment. If you came all the way over here and braved my mother, you must have something important to say.” Her eyes widened immediately, and he recognized that look. He’d worn it a few times before. He wasn’t the only one worried about messing up.

“Yeah. I wanted to say I’m sorry.” He spat the words out quickly, finding further relief in them. She laughed a bit, a harsh sound that didn’t quite fit her.

“I’m sorry...what? Did Rufioh Nitram just apologize to me? If I wasn’t so shocked by that, I might be curious enough to ask you what you’re apologizing for.” She was teasing him, but it felt like she didn’t have the same heart behind it. He tried smirking at her, teasing back.

“Except you did. I just...remember what you said about fixing things? I need to apologize to a few people. And you were...the most important, I guess. Because I couldn’t wait.” He teased a bit before he was honest. She gave a bit of a more genuine chuckle now.

“Well, look at you. Mr. Nitram, getting his shit in order. How’s it feel?” She asked him, finally moving to take a seat in her desk chair. He moved to sit on her bed, hoping to be eye level with her but almost gave a sigh as he sank a bit into to soft mattress. He picked up on the teasing, how she still occasionally patted at her eyes and how her smile seemed a little more timid.

“Better? After I apologized to Aranea for being a crap brother, I felt a little braver. So I went to Damara. That shit was...it was tough. But I’m glad I did. I feel like there’s closure, she made me think about some things. There may be one more person I have to apologize yet, but I need to think about some things long and hard. But I didn’t want to wait to apologize to you.”

“Oh...oh, that’s…” Porrim started, but she didn’t get much out before she folded in on herself and let out a stifled sound he thought was a sob. It took him a second to catch up to the realization that she was crying and he moved quickly, scrambling up and out of the bed that threatened to consume him to stumble over to her.

“Hey, hey, what happened? Why are you crying?” He asked before he lifted her up off of herself. She clung to him instead, a desperate grip as if she was trying to hold onto reality. He hugged her back, trying his best to keep holding her up. It was a minute before she spoke.

“I’m sorry, it’s just...it’s sweet. You listened to me, and you thought to apologize, and everything is still so overwhelming because of the miscarriage and the hormone imbalance. Fuck, you don’t know about all of that. You don’t really want to. I’m sorry, I just…” She started spilling words from her in a panicked rush and he pulled back finally to look down at her a bit easier.

“No, no...hey...I want to know. I don’t know, and you’ll have to tell me. But that’s what...that’s what friends do, right?” He offered her and she smiled a bit now. She gave herself away, and he saw that brief moment of relief at not being alone in this moment.

“I wouldn’t push it yet...but yes.” She responded through sniffles, and smiled at him a bit as she finally found her breath. “I’d like to talk about it...I don’t really have anyone. My mother will just pray, I don’t want to bother Damara, Cronus and Meenah struggle through comforting someone...and Kurloz and I broke up. And I’m better, but it’s still fresh.”

“Then I’ll listen. It’s the least I can do. And I really want to. If you’ll listen to me.” He stated, mostly kidding. He’d still listen to her.

“Well, that’s only fair isn’t it?” She countered, and it took him for a loop for a minute.

“Yeah...yeah, I guess it is.” Rufioh answered before he returned to his spot on her bed. 

He was glad he hadn’t waited. She helped him realize quite a few things, and that in turn helped him make up his mind. He needed to break up with Horuss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Real Friends" by Camila Cabello


	8. Something's Gotta Give

“I have never heard a silence quite so loud,  
I walk in the room and you don't make a sound, make a sound;  
You're good at making me feel small.  
If it doesn't hurt me, why do I still cry?  
If it didn't kill me, then I'm half alive, half alive.  
How did we get so far gone?  
Something's gotta give, something's gotta break,  
But all I do is give, and all you do is take.  
Something's gotta change, but I know that it won't;  
No reason to stay is a good reason to go…”

Breaking up with Horuss took much longer than he meant it to. He had come to the decision and had it mostly solidified but he still lingered with Horuss until his senior year. 

At first, he delayed his decision because he thought maybe he was overlooking something. He still had trouble telling if he just cared or if he loved him. He decided, yes he did love him. Horuss was wonderful; he was intelligent, kind, a sweetheart deep down. He had his own negatives though. He held a bit of an elitist attitude on the occasion, showed willful ignorance more than once, and he could be neglectful when he was absorbed in something. He still loved him though.

But he wasn’t in love with him, and that in itself was a good reason to break up. Horuss wanted him to be in love with him, but he couldn’t do that and he wasn’t sure why. So he tried bringing it up, but the first few times, something would come up or Horuss wouldn’t let him continue on. In a way, he thought Horuss knew what was coming and he was trying to put it off.

He could recall the long and torrid task easily to this day.

The first time, he’d tried in the morning. He’d gotten to school earlier than he normally did, and gone to their usual table. He set his books down and let his bag fall to the floor, before plopping down into a chair to drop his face into his hands. He took long, deep breaths, repeating calming mantras to himself quietly. 

_’You’re not in love with him, this is good for both of you. In order to get better, you have to let go.’_ He said calmly in his mind, before he began trying to piece together how to tell him. _’Look, Horuss...we need to break up. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and while I love you I don’t love you the way you want me to. And I just can’t make myself. I hope you understand.’_ Okay yeah, that sounded good.

He looked up when he heard footsteps. Horuss shuffled in slowly and he offered a smile before he realized the other was still half asleep.

“What happened, doll?” He asked, a little worried. Horuss had always been bright and peppy in the morning.

“Nightmares is all. Don’t worry about me. I should be right as rain tomorrow.” Horuss stated as he pulled a chair over beside Rufioh’s and sat down. He set his bag on the table and leaned over and laid his head on the other’s shoulder.

“That’s good to hear, I think. Hey, doll, look...we need to talk...” He trailed off when he realized Horuss had fallen asleep on his shoulder. He gave a sigh of defeat and settled back. He’d wait til lunch then.

Lunch time came quickly, and Rufioh once again had steeled himself for the task at hand. But when he got to their table, he found it full today. Meulin was a usual addition to the table, but today she’d brought Kurloz along. And apparently, Latula and Mituna had both decided to join them as well. Of course. He immediately dropped the subject and put on a fake smile. He didn’t want to do this in front of everyone, why had he even considered doing this at lunch?

That delay turned into two weeks, during which he could feel their relationship fading painfully slow. They talked less over time, spending most of their time in silence. On more than one occasion he found an excuse that let him get out of going to see Horuss. That made him feel guilty and twisted up inside, so he decided it was time to try talking to him again.

The third time should have been the right time, but that time had been thwarted by Horuss’ ability to slip into that state of willful ignorance. He’d waited til they were at the other’s house after school, and he had slipped off to the bathroom to ready himself again. He repeated those words in his head again, already knowing what to say. He headed back to the other’s room once more, and he lingered on his feet.

“Horuss...look, doll, we really need to talk.” Rufioh said the sentence and he could feel the weight in those words. Horuss looked over to him, papers in his hand. He was already starting on one of his projects. He needed to do this quickly.

“Talk? About what?” Horuss asked, confused already. He looked back down to shuffle through a few more papers.

“About us...look, I love you--” He started to explain before he was quickly cut off.

“I know that, Rufioh.” Horuss responded, chuckling a bit and shaking his head before he dropped his eyes back to the papers in his hands.

“Yeah, but--” Rufioh started to argue, but he caught the other stiffen a bit before he smiled widely and looked up at him again.

“Oh you don’t need to come up with some flowery metaphor. I know exactly what you mean.” He tried once again to dismiss it, though this time he stopped paying attention to what he was doing.

“I don’t know how, you haven’t let me finish yet.” He stated flatly as he sighed heavily, shoulders dropping down again.

“Now, now, there’s no need to be so testy. Are you hungry? Maybe we should get you something to eat.” Horuss stated, standing up again to usher him to the kitchen. Rufioh followed, slumped a bit in defeat. Why did he think he could do this? He hadn’t even broken up with Damara, just blurted out the truth in a drunken stupor.

He lingered on, noticing more and more small changes between them. Horuss stopped reaching for his hand unless they were in public. Occasionally, he would shift his tone towards Rufioh just a bit and it made him feel so cold inside. Like he was almost pleading, begging to put it off. And so he did, falling for what might have been him projecting his emotions onto the other. He could feel budding regret again, and that made him feel small once more.

The next few times he tried, it usually went the same route. He was ignored, brushed off, interrupted. He didn’t try again until they had almost graduated, and he got another pep talk from Damara. It was a lot like the last one. Except this time she cornered him in school to question him about their state, and when he told her that he hadn’t yet she’d huffed and stomped her foot.

“Quit dicking around. Rip the bandaid off so he can heal.” She’d whispered hastily to him in the hallway between classes. She stopped in front of him, hands on her hips as if she was expecting an excuse.

“I’m trying, Damz! I swear I am, but he just keeps cutting me off and--” He started, and ironically she cut him off mid-sentence about being cut off by Horuss.

“Then cut him off. He doesn’t rule your life, you do. So talk over him if you need to. But fucking do it.” She barked the order, lifting a hand to roll it in a ‘hurry up’ motion.

“Yeah...yeah okay, I can do that.” He agreed, feeling courage return to his bones.

“You better.” Damara dismissed him before leaving him just as quickly as she had arrived.

He did it that day after school. He went home with Horuss, just down the street from his own home. He held his hand, but he didn’t let himself get closer. They got to his room quickly, and Horuss immediately tried to throw himself into one of his projects but Rufioh stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm.

“We need to talk.” Rufioh made the demand gentle at first.

“We talk all the time, Rufioh.” Horuss tried to dismiss it, but he wasn’t going to let him do that this time.

“No, we really don’t. This is--” He started, and he felt irritation flash through him at being cut off again.

“Rufioh, I don’t want to--” He started again, and this time Rufioh raised his voice.

“Well too bad! Horuss, I’ve been trying to talk to you about this for a few months now. It’s important.” He raised his voice, emphasizing his want to discuss it. Horuss tensed up before he turned to finally look at him.

“What, Rufioh? What is so important?” He asked, and the tone was so cold it almost stopped Rufioh from speaking.

“We need to break up.” Rufioh blurted out and the other fell into hushed silence. “I love you, but I’m not in love with you. I haven’t been in a while.”

“...but you did?” Horuss asked after a moment of long silence, once more catching what he wanted to hear.

“Of course I loved you. I still love you. But I don’t love you the way you want me to. And that’s not fair to you, doll.” Rufioh explained himself, repeating words he’d practiced in his head for months.

“I don’t care. It’s not important, we have our whole future ahead of us.” Horuss tried to defend it, to stop it, but Rufioh shook his head a bit. “Maybe you’ll fall in love with me yet.”

“Exactly. You’ve got plenty of time to find someone who loves you the way you deserve.” He soothed, trying to be encouraging.

“But...I love you! I’m in love with you!” Horuss stated now, scooting back a bit from him and Rufioh didn’t stop him. He took a few steps back before he tried to finish explaining his feelings and the thoughts that had been eating him alive slowly.

“But _I’m_ not in love with _you_...and honestly, we don’t really have a lot in common. You know exactly what you want to do with your life, and I have absolutely no idea how to live my own life and make my own choices based on what would be good for me right now. I’ve been trying to bring this up for a while, and I just started to feel more trapped every day. I can’t let this end the way Damz and I did, poisoned and toxic.” The words fell heavy between them, and Rufioh wondered if it would have been different if he hadn’t waited for so long.

“Are you leaving me for her?” Horuss whispered scandalously.

“No! I’m leaving you for me, okay? I have to better myself, and I can’t do that when I feel so small all the time.” He jumped to his own defense now, shaking his head at the accusation. That had almost stung; he regretted the past enough to never want to repeat it.

“I can help you…” The reply was softly whispered, almost defeated now.

“No, you can’t. Only I can help me. And I’ve thought this over carefully, and I mean it. We should break up. Because we have no real reason to stay together, and I think that’s a pretty good reason to end it.” Rufioh’s own voice was softening a bit now as well, trying to be as comforting as he could be.

“I..I suppose. If that’s what you really want, and it seems you’ve really thought it through.” He finally admitted, relenting to Rufioh and for the moment leaving that zone of willful ignorance he loved to reside in.

“I have...and I’ve thought something else through. I know it’s soon, and it probably doesn’t matter in this moment...but I’m sorry. I really am, I didn’t mean for it to go on for this long. I should have believed in myself more before.” It was the last thing he had to say, and he moved to go grab his bag and his books.

“It’s fine.” Short and curt, a lot like Damara had been. It hurt him less this time around, even if he did still feel like he was drowning in an inch of water.

“I’m gonna...I’m gonna go.” He said as he moved to the door again.

“Please do.” And with his soft dismissal, Rufioh left without an argument. 

The next day, he was treated to quite a bit of backlash from his classmates. He received cutting glares from Meulin and Latula, and quite a few questions about what happened. It started to become overwhelming, and he started trying to just ignore everyone. He didn’t want to have to explain his reasonings all day to people who had no reason to know why he made his choice.

He felt that drowning feeling, that pressure in his chest that made it hard to function setting back into him again. Lunch time was almost the end of him, and he could feel himself edging closer to that line of disassociation. But before he slipped over, he felt the presence of someone next to him. Damara stood next to his chair with her lunch tray, smiling down at him.

“Come sit with us.” She stated, motioning to her table. He looked over at the table and spotted Porrim as well, seated in between Meenah and Cronus in the middle of a very passionate argument that she seemed to be referee of. Aranea was seated at the same table, absorbed in a book. He smiled a bit before he looked up at Damara again.

“You sure?” He asked with a smile and she grinned down at him widely.

“Outcasts stick with outcasts. Besides, I made a promise.” Damara responded, moving to grab his bag up off the table before heading back to her seat. He laughed a bit and stood up, following her.

He did have friends, he just hadn’t met them all yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Something's Gotta Give" by Camila Cabello


	9. The Last Of The Real Ones

“I'm done with having dreams,  
The thing that I believe;  
You drain the fear from me.  
'Cause you're the last of a dying breed,  
Write our names in the wet concrete,  
I wonder if your therapist knows everything about me?  
I'm here in search of your glory,  
There's been a million before me;  
That ultra-kind of love,  
You never walk away from,  
You’re just the last of the real ones.”

Rufioh watched Porrim on the stage, killing time until her shift was over. He was done for the day, and he wasn’t going to be the one to pull her out of her element. They’d lived together long enough to know that when she was in her zone, to just let her be. She’d probably dance a little longer before she would exit the stage, the crowd chanting her name. _’Venus.’_

Right now, his gaze settled on her movements on the stage. Every bit of this was her, the real her. It never turned off really, and that fascinated him. Every move, every dip of her hips was confidence she radiated almost constantly. He’d seen it falter, of course he had. Once a year she would hole up for a bit before going out. She’d return solemn, and the first time he’d experienced the phenomnom she’d come back and cried in his arms. They’d smoked and cuddled all night, watching movies and talking trash about every one of them relentlessly. He’d made sure to take that day off every year since.

He’d blinked back to reality as her song ended. He saw she was looking up at him and smiling so brightly. He felt his heart flutter a bit and he tried to stop that feeling in its tracks. No, he couldn’t handle the start of that train of thought. He remembered she was smiling at him and he smiled back, a big beaming gesture that was genuine because it was directed towards her. She waved and headed backstage, and he pushed off the pillar he’d been leaning against to follow her. 

He waited at the entrance to backstage before Damara stepped through and cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Waiting for an invitation?” She challenged, her voice teasing. They were friends again, and there was no longer bad blood between the two of them. He was still really unsure of where he stood with Horuss. He snapped back out of the thought again to smile at Damara.

“Maybe.” He shrugged, and she laughed.

“We’re coworkers. If anyone is uncomfortable, they will tell you. But you’re not a creep, so we’re not worried. Now go. Your roommate is waiting.” She pushed at his arm before she walked past, and he chuckled quietly before he took a deep breath and stepped through.

He’d been backstage before, of course. But usually there weren’t people here, and he walked through it to the break room and to their lockers. Right now, several of the strippers were primping before they headed back out. Porrim was already in her everyday clothes, which meant she’d already gone to her locker. She looked up to him and smiled that smile that blew him away again. How did she do that every single time? He grinned back and walked over to her.

“So...how was it?” She asked him as she pulled him into a hug. He’d learned over time she was an affectionate friend. She gave every single one of her friends their own specialized form of affections, and never once stalled in giving away her attention and time to someone who needed it. He wondered if she ever felt drained with how much of herself she gave away.

“As incredible as it always is, Por. You’re good at what you do.” He was honest, like she had always encouraged him to be. It didn’t hurt that this was almost a repeated routine for them.

“I like what I do.” She stated as she finally let him go. She leaned over to reach past him to grab her bag, but he lifted it up and met her halfway. She hummed her thanks as she folded her fingers over his before taking her bag gently. She looked up at him, her eyes holding a curious spark now. “So...serious question.”

“What’s up, doll?” He asked, following her automatically to the locker room so they could exit out the back where she had parked.

“Would you ever let me tattoo you?” Porrim asked, before she turned to cock a pierced eyebrow at him. He immediately wondered if this was a test of his loyalty, but he pushed the thought aside. He needed to stop doubting his friends.

“Without a doubt.” He answered, knowing it was true when he said it. He was getting better at that, but it always came easier with her.

“How about tonight?” Porrim asked, voice almost teasing him as she pushed the door open and held it for him to scoot by. He grinned now, stepping through and heading to where he could see the dark green motorcycle. 

“I mean, yeah. Sure. You got something in mind cause I admit, I haven’t given this a lot of thought.” Rufioh asked now, taking the helmet he was offered as she picked her own off the cycle. She gave a hum before she grinned up at him.

“Actually, yes. And it’s not very big.” She revealed the fact she must have been thinking about this all night. He guessed it in the way she toyed with the golden lip ring in her lower lip with her tongue.

“Why don’t you show me over dinner then? I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” He agreed, before he pulled the helmet on. She seemed to relax a bit before she nodded.

“You have no idea.” She laughed, pulling her helmet on finally. She climbed on first, and he climbed on after her. He had a vague idea how to drive this thing, as his father still drove a motorcycle to this day. But he knew how to ride, and he honestly preferred it.

He slid his arms around her waist, not considering anything the moment she turned the engine on. He could feel the vibration of the machinery beneath him through his bones, and the sound was loud enough to drown out every other sound around him if he let it. And right now, he chose to let it.

They moved along like fluid water through a fast moving stream. She knew back roads and shortcuts everywhere through this neighborhood. If he could guess where they were going, it was probably to their favorite late night diner. He couldn’t tell from passing landmarks because right now everything was a blur as he wasn’t trying to focus on the destination. He was enjoying the journey, prolonging it a bit more in his own mind. Once more, he wondered why and if it had something to do with the strange tingling in his arms and chest where he could feel her pulse thudding through her back as he held on close. 

He pushed it down again. It didn’t matter why, she was his best friend. And he loved that about her.

They arrived exactly where he thought they were going. She pulled in, the engine’s sound dying down a bit before she parked and killed it. He let go, climbing off and removing his helmet. He could feel his own hair mashed down and he lifted a hand to self-consciously fluff it up again. He turned to watch her in amazement as she pulled her helmet off to reveal that her hair was as perfect as it always was as it cascaded down her shoulders.

“How do you do that?” Rufioh asked, openly in awe of her in the glow of the big red neon sign above them.

“Do what?” She asked, turning to look at him curiously as she locked her helmet to her bike. She held a hand out for his, and he passed it over as he laughed.

“You never have helmet hair.” He explained, turning to follow her when she was finished up. She laughed a bit, striking a pose as they stepped through the entrance together.

“Skills, my darling.” Porrim teasing, before she pushed lightly as his arm.

“Oh, of course. I apologize for asking questions with obvious answers.” He laughed now, smiling as they walked slowly to their usual booth.

“Apology accepted. So about that tattoo.” She asked now, sliding into one side. 

“Never one for small talk, are you?” Rufioh grinned as he asked the question, sitting opposite of her.

“Every conversation with you is a blessing, why pretend we’re not going to divert from this topic at least twenty times before we even get our food?” She asked as she sat her purse down and began digging through it

“True. We never can stay on point.” He said, turning copper whiskey eyes away from her for a moment to take a look around their familiar settings. He liked it here, especially at one in the morning. It was relatively empty except for the other regulars, and its was strangely calming. Like a liminal space that only existed for them. He looked back to look at Porrim as she pulled a pen triumphantly from the bag and the light just above their little booth caught the glitter across her skin. He found himself smiling again. 

“You bring up interesting points I want to expand upon.” Porrim defended herself, smirk quirking up the corner of her lips as she spoke and he knew she was full of shit.

“You want to know all the gossip I’ve gathered in a day, doll. No shame in just saying that.” Rufioh teased, leaning over the table with an exaggerated shushing noise. “You collect gossip. Admit it.”

“How dare you call me out on my nonsensical ploys to charm you into telling me what’s recently happened to Yolanda? You shouldn’t have started the story if you didn’t plan to follow it to the end.” She was laughing now, and so was he. It was so easy to laugh with her.

“My bad, I’ll know that for next time. For now, here’s the next installment on your favorite soap opera that are my coworkers...” But before he could continue on, their usual waitress arrived. He smiled up at the older woman, as she took their drink orders as they ordered their usual meals. He turned back to look at Porrim, who was already bent over a napkin with a pen in her hand and scribbling a rough design out. She slid it over to him when she finished and he took it with a smile.

He held it up to look it over. He recognized the horned ring that was his astrological sign, Taurus. In truth he only knew that because he lived with Porrim and astrology mattered quite a bit to her. He smiled a bit at the sneaky memory of her reading her daily horoscope at the start of every day. He made himself focus again, and he noticed the butterfly wings around the outside. He cocked an eyebrow before looking up at her.

“Alright, so I get the symbol. But the wings?” He asked, intrigued. If she drew it, it must have some kind of symbolism behind it. And he wanted to know how she thought through everything she did.

“I have two reasons for that, would you like to hear them?” She asked, breaking to smile at the waitress as she came with their drinks now. They both gave her their own thanks as she turned to go retrieve their food.

“I mean...isn’t that what I asked, doll?” Rufioh asked, smirking before he peeled the paper from a straw and dropped the utensil in the cup before leaning over and taking a long drink to silence his sass for a moment.

“In so few words, but you didn’t know I had two reasons.” Porrim chided, smirking herself before she tilted her head at him. “Did you?” He laughed at the question, almost choking on his root beer.

“Point taken, please continue.” He got the words out after a second, nodding his agreement.

“Well, for one...your metamorphosis in a sense. If we’re always honest with each other, you were an asshole who acted for everyone else but himself. But you’ve come so far...and more importantly, you’re taking care of yourself now. And you haven’t quite emerged yet, but when you do you’re going to be incredible. I think that should be remembered.” Porrim explained, smiling at him sweetly. He blushed a little bit now, blown away by that statement. He really was taking care of himself now, wasn’t he?

“That’s...wow. Yeah, okay. I see that...and the second reason?” He was almost stunned to silence as his eyes met her jungle green ones.

“You’ve always had a thing for anything Peter Pan related.” He blinked for a second, the response completely knocking him out of his shocked state. He realized she was grinning widely at him now, and once again he was amazed by how she switched from serious topics to light hearted ones so quickly. He laughed now, shaking his head.

“Who told you my biggest secret?” Rufioh laughed around the words, leaning back again as their food was set on the table.

“Your sister, years ago.” Porrim confided, before giggling as she thanked their server.

The evening continued on into dinner, both of them talking around eating. He loved their conversations, every bit of time spent with her. They talked about the tattoo again, how big it would be and where. She proposed putting in between his shoulder blades on his back, making it only four inches or so. She could add onto it, if he so wanted her to and he already knew he did. He agreed, and he felt excitement in doing something new. He couldn’t wait to see what else she would come up with in the future, what stories she wanted to tell.

Eventually they finished dinner, paying and each leaving a generous tip behind, and they left as suddenly as they had arrived. Soon they were back home, walking through their apartment door in quiet giggles. She headed to her bedroom, claiming that she’d be back with her equipment and that he should put on some music. 

As he headed to his room to change into sweats. He set up music, playing one of her favorite playlists as he put on a kettle of water on the stove to boil. She’d want some tea, and it’d take her a minute to set everything up. He got the mug and tea bag ready, humming along to the tune he heard playing in the other room. He heard Porrim’s door open, and he could hear her moving about. 

He wondered how long she would need and if he could help when the whistle of the kettle pulled him from his thoughts once again. He turned off the stove, moving with a practiced motion to where the mug was set. He poured, waited, then sweetened it the way she always took it--two sugars, a little honey, and a dash of milk--then he carried it to the living room.

She had what he assumed was everything she needed set up at the desk she kept tucked in the corner of the room. She looked up at him and she softened when she noticed the mug. She moved over to take it, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek that set his face ablaze. 

Now was a comfortable contrast of their earlier exchanges, soft and quiet; the peace of their little sanctuary. She had him settle into a one of their kitchen chairs backwards and she sat behind him. She prepped the area, confirming again he was okay with this. He laughed and challenged her, before he admitted he was ready. He heard the buzz of her tattoo gun, and just like with her motorcycle he sank into the sounds around him and the pulse thumping along strong and calm. He didn’t have a trace of a fear in him, and he felt a gentle hand on his back before he felt the needles touch his skin.

He had expected it to hurt more than it did, but really it almost tickled. It did sting, but it was in no way as painful as the machine would make you think. He could feel the sensation moving slowly in graceful arcs, and the vibration spread through the surrounding skin and muscles like a deep rooted massage he could only ever dream of. 

It stung a bit more when she started in with the color, but after maybe ten minutes it eased out again into a comfortable ache. He could feel her leaning against him occasionally as she worked at blending, and he could hear her soft hum of concentration. He took this moment to look at the mirror on the wall beside them. He could just see her as she looked at what she was doing with that same focus she had on stage.

He felt this rush of relief run through his veins as he watched her work. He could feel every bit of unease still lingering in him slowly fade away finally as she moved without hesitation. He was almost struck stupid with the sudden realization that she drained the fear from him. All of it, every silly thing he still held onto didn’t seem as overwhelming as it used to. 

She was the real thing, a real friend. Exactly what he’d been asking the universe for in the beginning. And no matter what happened, he knew she would stay at his side. He hoped he wouldn’t be selfish, wouldn’t take advantage of that and cling to her like the child he used to be until he smothered her into confusion. He probably would, and the thought made him tense up a bit as he took a sudden sharp breath. She pulled back, looking up to him. He watched her smile in the mirror as she pressed a hand reassuringly on his arm, spreading her fingers out slowly. The gesture got him to relax again and she returned to working with a chirp of _”Almost done.”_

He knew she was done when he heard the gun fall silent and he felt her lips place a soft kiss to the top of his spine. He found himself blushing again, before standing and taking the hand mirror passed to him. He turned around to the mirror on the wall, angling a bit to look at what she’d done. 

It was the same basic design she'd shown him at the diner. It was bigger, and now the wings were a little more detailed. At the base they started as a copper a bit darker than his skin and faded into a deep green that was accented in areas by splots of yellow and white. He smiled a bit before he turned to look at her.

“Well...do you like it?” She asked, her voice giving her nervousness away. He grinned over at her.

“I love it, doll.” Rufioh assured her before he leaned over and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

She was the last of the real ones, and his first real friend. And he knew he could never lose her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The Last Of The Real Ones" by Fall Out Boy

**Author's Note:**

> "Champion" by Fall Out Boy


End file.
